Evening Brezze

The evening was in Breeze And a cluster of nightingales In competition Sang: On the brick wall of the Garden We sate ourselves with Pitchers of wine Let The pitchers cool in the Night breeze and In the night cold The moon raised its head To see us two You and I my friend: We both drank wine Sipping slowly No need of dance Satyrs and fauns Nymphs and Graces We just had wine And That was enough: We nodded to the moon To come And it came and sate With us Drank wine Sipping Its white face reddened And we three sat there Hearing midnight strike and The after-hours: Sometimes a rattling Skeleton: We saw We heard We three of us Originally sipping wine.